I got a library card. Well an online account. And I’ve been borrowing books and reading them in a fury. Why I waited this long to get a library card is beyond me. And why I’ve been paying for paper books when I could be reading them for free just seems ridiculous.
There are a lot of powerful stories out there. Things that need to be shared. Things that can’t be held inside.
We all have a story. The good. The ugly. The raw. It can be painful to write. Painful to read. But the sharing of stories is so important.
Stories can put the world in perspective or turn it on its head. Stories can make us feel seen. Represent. Authenticate. Include.
It’s important to tell stories. They don’t all have to be real. We need to be transported. Entertained. Stimulated. Impassioned.
It’s been fun reading. In the dark while I hold my son. Or when the day is done. And the reading of a story is always part the words on the page and the meaning the author intends as well as our own illustration of the story in our minds. Our own embellishments and brush strokes. That’s what makes them so special. And the fact that we will never run out of stories to tell.
